Stay forever with me
by Sunnyqueen
Summary: Eliot opened his heart to Hardison, telling him about an old relationship he had and that ended in one of the worst ways possible. Now, he has the opportunity to be with that person. The only question is if this person is going to accept him back. Eliot/Chapman. M/M Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

They were spending the last days together before scattering again after having sent Moreau to jail and they were having dinner together. Dinner that obviously Eliot cooked for them. That was normal, Eliot cooking for them, nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary, though, it was that no one was saying anything: Nate wasn't telling them how spectacular was going to be their life during the next six months, Sophie wasn't talking about some audition she would apply to, Parker wasn't explaining them about what was she going to steal nor was pushing Eliot's buttons, Hardison wasn't rambling about something related to Star Wars, Star Trek or any other geek stuff. But the most unusual one was Eliot: he was toying with his food, pushing the veggies around, stabbing the poor T-bone steak or smashing the already smashed potato.

The other four shared a glance between them before staring at the hitter, who seemed oblivious at what was happening around him. It wasn't after a few minutes that he noticed the glances directed at him.

"Why y'all staring at me?" He asked, frowning.

"Are you ok?" Nate questioned, trying to read him.

"Of course." The Southerner replied.

"Do you want talk about something, sugar?" Since they discovered the common past he and Moreau shared, Sophie started calling him 'sugar', 'darling', 'sweetheart' and whatnot. Funny thing is that it didn't bother him at all.

He just shook his head in reply. "It's ok. I just have too much in my head." He shrugged before he finished his probably stone-cold steak, ate a bit more of the smashed potato and dumped the veggies.

"Eliot, are you sure you are…?" Sophie started.

"I said I'm fine. No need to worry." He growled as he sat down again, beer in hand.

After that no one touched this topic again and they let Eliot stew in his own juices, knowing that it was better to leave him alone because if they pushed him too much the would snap and every one could tell that if he exploded it was not going to be pretty.

Thirty minutes later Parker was watching some show on TV, Nate and Sophie were upstairs either talking or fucking. Eliot wasn't stupid; he had seen Sophie covered by the sheets back in San Lorenzo but if they didn't want to tell them yet, he wasn't going to wind their secret up. So Hardison went with him to help him with the dishes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked. The hacker knew that even though the growling and threatening, Eliot trusted him. And even though the whole Moreau and drowning thing, he trusted Eliot. From all those guys, if he had to put his life in someone's hands it would probably be the hitter's ones.

"Do _you_ really want to talk about it?" Eliot sighed. He could convince Nate and Sophie pretty easily, he could convince Parker with a bit of effort. But Hardison? That guy was the most stubborn person he had never met.

"I care about you, Eliot." He started, turning around and leaning against the counter. "I really do. You are like that big brother I always wanted and…" He trailed off. "We all know what happened in there, Eliot. We are not as innocent as Parker." He said.

Eliot didn't reply, he just turned to face the taller male. "I… Do you really see me as your brother?" That did surprise him, but he kind of saw the hacker and thief as younger siblings too. Alec nodded. Spencer sighed and grabbed a stool. "Take a sit, this is going to be long." He sighed and the black male nodded as he sat down in front of the hitter who rubbed his face. "Do you remember the British guy from the pool?"

"Yeah. Chapman, right?"

"Right." Eliot licked his lips nervously. "We started working for Damien around the same time, maybe two weeks of difference. I was the only hitter, he was the head of security… We had an… ok relationship. Moreau started to send the two of us together to the most dangerous missions so we started to rely more on each other. We trusted each other. We became friends." He said and rubbed his temples. Remembering all of this was painful. Really painful. It was the first time he ever talked about that with someone other than himself. "After a few months, seven or so, we… were together."

"Together? What do you mean together? As in a team?" Alec asked, blinking.

Eliot let out an exasperated sigh at that. "Together Hardison. To-ge-ther. As in a couple." He explained.

"You are gay?" He shrieked. "I mean, I've got nothing against it but… hum… you don't look exactly like gay." He pointed out and Eliot frowned.

"First of all, I ain't gay. I'm bi. Second, not every single gay man wears pastel colours, use make-up and talks weird." He growled.

Alec made an agreement sound before he realised something. "The British guy? The one that looked like you wanted to kill and looked like wanted to kill you?" The sharp breath intake, made the hacker slap himself mentally. "Ah. Shit. I'm sorry man." He quickly apologised.

"I-it's ok." He replied.

"What happened?"

"We were fine, and then I had to screw everything up." Eliot bit his lips softly before continuing. "Remember how I said I was sent to kill General Flores?" Hardison nodded remembering that. "I obviously didn't kill him and Moreau kicked me out. Well, first he kicked everyone out of the house so we could talk without interruptions and then kicked me out. I called Chapman, he didn't reply. I left him a voice message too. Also a text message."

"W-what did you say?" Alec was overwhelmed: the fact that Eliot was telling him everything about this particular part of his past made him happy, really happy; it showed that the hitter trusted him.

"I asked him to come with me." Eliot looked at him and the hacker was shocked to see that, in them, there were unshed tears. "He never replied either. It hurts, you know? I really thought that it was something more than sex… I guess I was wrong." He mumbled and Hardison yanked the blue-eyed man until he could hug him. "What are you doing?" Eliot growled, but didn't try to push away.

"Hugging you." He replied simply. "Sometimes' good to let people show some affection towards you, you know?" He said and then tightened the embrace.

They kept that position for a few minutes, until Eliot pulled away, his face slightly red. "Thank you Alec." He muttered, shooting him a shy smile.

"No problem, man." The hacker looked at his hands before looking at him. "Did you...? You know… killed him?"

"Chapman?" Hardison nodded. "No. I did shot him, though. But he was wearing a bulletproof vest. One of the bullets impacted in his shoulder." He replied.

"Would you like me to track him down?" He offered.

"No need for."

"I mean it. If you…"

"I know where he is, Hardison." He interrupted him. "Before I walked away from that warehouse I called an ambulance. He is in the hospital. He is going to be processed." He tugged at his sleeves, nervous.

Alec started at him, tilting his head: he had never seen Eliot like that. Emotional? Yes, sometimes. Broken? Never.

"Can I say something crazy?" He asked and the hitter shrugged. "Have you ever considered that… he never saw the messages?" He suggested and before Eliot could say anything he continued. "You said Moreau kicked everyone out, so maybe Chapman didn't take the phone with him and if Moreau was pissed at you… could he have deleted them?"

Eliot didn't say anything. He just blinked, thinking about it. How could he have not thought about that? It wouldn't be the first time Moreau did something like that; he had seen him do similar stuff sometimes. Hardison backed out a bit when he saw the look on the hitter's blue eyes. He had never been scared of Eliot. Never, but right now, Eliot didn't look like himself, he looked like he was ready to kill someone.

"Man, calm down." He said, putting a hand in his shoulder. "Do you think it could have been that?" He asked.

"Yes. I… I need to see him." He stood up and took a deep breath. "About that…" he started, hesitantly.

"I won't tell anyone, don't worry." He smiled at him before he saw Eliot grabbing his leather jacket and running to the entrance. A few seconds later they heard his motorbike.

"Where's Eliot going?" Sophie asked, looking at him with confusion.

"He said he had to take care of something." Alec only said, shrugging.

Once at the hospital, Eliot almost forgot to take the helmet off before stepping inside. He walked up to the counter, breathing hard.

"Can I help you, sir?" The guy at the other side asked.

"James Chapman. What room is he in?" He said.

The guy typed the name in the computer and then looked at him frowning. "I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Chapman is not allowed to receive any visits. Besides, the visiting hours are finished." He said.

Eliot smiled and then took the guy by his bicep, pressing hard. "You are going to tell me in which room he is because if you don't you are going to end up at the ICU, have I been clear?" The boy nodded, scared as shit. "Good. And you better don't tell anyone about that. If they ask, you tell them you don't remember."

"H-he is in room 719." The boy stuttered.

"Was that so hard?" He said as he started to go to the room.

Once in the corridor, he growled when he saw the two policemen at the door. He didn't hesitate to walk up to them, though.

"Restricted area, sir." One of them said. "You should…" he never got a chance to finish the sentence: Eliot had knocked both of them out.

And now he stood in front of the white door, staring at the number and biting his lower lip. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he took the knob and opened the door.

Chapman was sleeping, handcuffed at the bed. He moved next to him, slowly, silently so he wouldn't wake up and then sat down next to him. He ran a hand through the short blondish hair, remembering all the times he had done that very same gesture some years ago.

It didn't take long for Chapman to wake up and he turned around when he felt the hand in his head. He stared into deep blue eyes and then frowned, scooting away from him.

"What are you doing here, Eliot?" He asked, frowning.

"Need to ask you something." He only said as he put his hand in his lap.

"What?" Chapman sat down and crossed his legs, sitting Indian style.

Eliot stared at him, at the piercing bluish-greyish eyes that he loved so much. "When…" His throat closed and he had to swallow before following. "When he together… was it just sex?"

Chapman frowned. "Is it what it was for you?" He countered.

"I asked first."

The Scottish didn't look at him; he stared at his hands. Hands that had killed, hands that had hit, hands that had pulled trigger uncountable times, hands that had… loved. He remembered all those times he and Eliot shared bed, either making love or just sleeping. He remembered some of the dates they had. He remembered how the hitter walked away, not even considering to explain him anything. To even ask if he wanted to go with him.

"No." He finally replied, without realising the hope that filled Eliot's eyes. "It was more than sex. It always had been more than sex. At least on my side."

"What do you mean at least on your side!?" Eliot exclaimed.

"You walked away. Without even telling me!" Chapman yelled, angry, pushing him off the bed with his free hand.

"No!" Eliot climbed up again, straddled him and took his face in his hands. "No Leith, no. It wasn't like that. You remember the day Moreau kicked everyone out of the villa?" He asked, forcing the European to look at him in the eye.

"Of course. It was the same day you walked away and left me behind. Like a dog."

"When Moreau kicked you out, did you have your phone with you?"

"What? How is that even relevant?"

"Did you have it?"

"No. I remember because I wanted to send you an sms and I didn't have it with me." He replied bitterly.

Eliot's lips quivered a bit before he softened his grip on his chin. "I called you. Left you a message."

And what he saw in the hitter's eyes shocked him. Eliot Spencer wasn't exactly known to show his feelings to people, but right now, he was on his lap, heart in hand, and exposing his feelings to him.

"W-what did you say in it?" The British asked.

"I… I asked you if you wanted to come with me. But… I believe Moreau deleted them before you ever saw them." He said.

"Y-you wanted me to come with you?"

"Of course. It was more than sex on my side too, Leith." The American caressed his cheeks. "But you never replied so I thought… I thought that it didn't mean anything to you. So yeah, I walked away without even trying to contact you never again."

Chapman seemed to be having a hard trying understanding all what was being said to him: Eliot loved him. He had wanted him to go with him. Moreau deleted his messages. It all seemed so surreal and yet… it made sense.

"Why are you here, Eliot?" He asked, tilting his head a bit.

And the hitter literally slumped over him. "I… Would you come with me now?" He asked.

"What?"

"Would you come with me? Stay with me?"

And he couldn't help but beam. Of course he would. He loved the man. He would do anything for him. He had _killed_ for the man. Then again, Eliot had killed for him too. He nodded, hugging the hitter with his free arm.

"I'm handcuffed, though." He said, smirking now. "Reminds me of Belfast." Eliot chuckled at that, remembering Belfast.

Eliot got off the bed and went to the still knocked-out policemen and after a couple of minutes of searching he came back inside the room with the keys of the handcuffs and unlocked them. And when he went to retrieve his hand from Chapman's wrist, the Scottish took it and intertwined their fingers, kissing the dorsal of the hitter's hand softly.

"Thank you, luaidh." He whispered and smiled at him.

Eliot smiled back at him and straddled him again, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. "I missed you." He admitted. "I missed this."

"I missed it too. Missed you too."

The slightly older man sighed and then pulled away from the other man's neck. They stared into each other's eyes before Spencer leaned in and kissed him, softly, revealing on the taste and the feeling of finally kissing Leith again.

They kissed for what it seemed like hours, tongues caressing each other until Chapman pulled away a bit and stopped the hitter when he went to kiss him again.

"What is it?" Eliot asked, blinking. Did Leith have a second thought and ne didn't want to go with him? He flinched at that thought.

"I think we should get out of here." The British said, smirking.

"We should." They stood out and walked away, to the reception.

"Wait, Eliot. The nurse at the reception."

"Don't worry. I have taken care of him. He's a bit too scared of me to even try to do anything." He said as he wrapped one hand around the smaller man's waist.

"Everyone is scared of your, luaidh." He joked and smirked when the clerk gulped when they walked by him.

"Damn right." They arrived by the motorbike and Leith climbed behind him. "Where are we going?" He asked, his hands gripping tightly Eliot's waist. He didn't really like bikes, but when Eliot was the one driving? He liked them even less. Eliot was too friendly with the gas pedal. Way too much friendly.

"My house. We could go to Nate's apartment, but I'm not in the mood to handle their questions." He replied. "Unless you are eager to meet them."

"Your house sounds perfect."

Spencer chuckled and reeved the bike a couple of times before riding off to his house. It didn't take long, just over five minutes, until Eliot stopped and jumped off the bike, taking Leith's hand and pecking his lips.

"Still not a fan of bikes?" He asked jokingly.

"And you are not making me like them any better." The Scottish replied as he followed him inside the building. Once inside the house he whistled. "Nice house, luaidh." Eliot made an appreciative sound and then led him to the master bedroom. He just smirked and stripped until he only had his boxers before he climbed up to the bed. "Aren't you going to join me, luaidh?"

Eliot snorted and stripped down too until he was in the same position the European was in and laid next to him, both already under the covers. Both off them were propped on their elbows.

"Leith?"

"Yes?"

"Were you going to shoot me?" He asked.

"In the warehouse?" Eliot nodded. "It was what I had been told to, but I don't think I could. I know I couldn't." He moved closer to him and pecked his lips. "You shoot me, though. And you knew I was wearing a bulletproof vest."

Eliot closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He whispered, gathering him in his arms and placing a kiss where the gauze was. "I really did thought that you were going to kill me."

"How could you…?"

"Hear me out. You didn't answer my call, didn't reply to my message. I thought I meant nothing for you."

"What made you re-think it?"

"One of the members of my crew. He thought it could have been possible that Moreau had deleted it."

"Hn. Remind me to thank him. Or her." He replied as he moved closer to the hitter and closed his eyes. "Finally, a bed in conditions." He mumbled and Eliot chuckled as he settled down too, snuggling closer to Chapman. "Good night, luaidh."

"Good night, sweetheart." He replied, one of his arms wrapped around his waist while he had one wrapped around his own middle section.

Eliot couldn't believe everything worked out so well: he had his love in his arms again. He would cook everything Hardison asked him too for a full week. Maybe two if the kid behaved.

He had missed Leith so much. Only God knew how many nights he had been completely awake, not even sleeping his ninety minutes, staring blankly ahead. But he was by his side again, and there was no way in hell that he was letting Leith go away from him.

Next morning, when the European woke up, he thought _"What a strange dream."_ Then he noticed how big the bed was, his uncuffed hand, the fact he was only wearing underwear and he soft bed sheets. _"Oh God. It wasn't a dream." _He scrambled out of bed and into the kitchen, knowing that he would be there. And of course, he was there, wearing just black sweat pants and a black wife beater, his hair pulled out in a ponytail and probably bare-feet and baking something.

"Morning luaidh." He walked next to him and kissed his cheek.

"Morning." He only replayed and Chapman sat down in a stool across the counter-bar.

"What you doing? It smells great."

"Strawberry muffins." Eliot replied, smiling. "Still like them?"

"Of course." He smiled back at him. "So, this crew of yours, when do I get to meet them?" he asked nonchalantly. Even if inside of his head there was a very annoying voice that was yelling at him that it was too soon for that.

Spencer blinked at him and then chuckled. "Whenever you want." He then moved to him and rested his hands on the bare thighs. "Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

"What are we, exactly? We just met each other after a really nasty 'break-up'" He said making air-quotes "and a shooting. Don't take me wrong, I love you and I don't want to leave your side never again. However… it's a lot baggage."

Leith couldn't say that he didn't expect a question like this. Hell, if it weren't Eliot the want asking it he would have asked it himself! He leaned in and wrapped his arms around the hitter's body, resting his head on his shoulder.

"We are… We are what we used to be."


	2. Chapter 2

They were sitting on the couch, Leith clad in one of Eliot's sweatpants and a wife-beater –not the clothes he would usually use, but they were comfy–, his back against the armrest, his feet under the elder's left thigh and both reading a book. They decided that they would call it a stay-at-home day, to reconnect and stuff.

Leith looked at him, from his position he could only see his profile and he smirked before setting the book down and in a quick and fluid movement he had grabbed Eliot's book, set it next to his and sat on his lap. The American blinked before he wrapped an arm around his waist and held him closer to his body.

"What you thinking, sweetheart?" He asked as his teeth grazed the neck softly.

"Just that you look so much better with long hair." Chapman replied back before grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging a bit to make Eliot throw his head back a bit.

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh. Fits you better. And you look so much sexy this way. And highlights your eyes." The Scottish replied before kissing him hungrily, being kissed with just as much passion as he was pouring into it.

Eliot chuckled in the kiss and then pinned him against the cushions, his hands going to his ass to squeeze hard. Leith moaned into his mouth and then wrapped his legs around his waist to pull him closer. God, he had missed that so much. The ferocity Eliot possessed was something that not everyone could have and minister as he did. One of his hands started to get under the American's shirt when Spencer's cell phone rang.

Growling and reluctantly Eliot pulled away, smirking when he saw the red lips Leith had and the lust-clouded eyes. He dropped a quick kiss on his lips before he reached for the phone.

"What?" He growled, as he started to tease Leith through the sweatpants, the man's eyes fluttering close at the feeling.

"**Is everything ok?" **Hardison asked.

"Yeah. More than ok." He grinned at Chapman, who was starting to squirm under his administrations.

"**He at your place?"**

"He is."

There was a moment of silence before the hacker spoke again. **"When do we get to meet him?"**

Eliot grumbled something under his breath that made Leith chuckle as he propped in his elbows. "Tomorrow. And do not call again unless it is a life or death matter." And after that, he hung up and let himself fall over Leith, who let his breath go.

"Everything alright El?" The Scottish asked, his accent so different from the hitter's own. Eliot used to make fun of Sophie because of her accent, but he loved Leith's one.

"Uh-huh. We are going to meet them tomorrow." He replied as he moved to kiss his neck again.

"We have the whole day for us, then?"

"We do. Why? Is there something you wanna do?" Eliot asked.

"For starters, you could keep doing what you were doing. And I need to buy some clothes." Leith said, his hands, opened, caressing the strong arms.

Eliot growled at the last sentence as he sat down on his heels. He had gone shopping with him before and he wasn't better than a woman. Maybe he could send him with Sophie tomorrow, enjoy their stay-at-home day.

"What for?" He asked, playing dumb as he started stroke the strong thighs.

"You want me to meet your crew naked?" Leith asked back, grinning mischievously.

"Hell no." Spencer growled possessively before claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. "But you can use some of my clothes."

"El, you know your clothes are too big for me." He admonished. "Trousers could fit, but if even a wife beater hangs like that, one of your shirts will make me look fatter. Besides, you don't have suits." He pointed out and Eliot growled low in his throat. He never understood why did he like so much to wear suits.

"You know I'm a terrible companion when it comes to shopping. Maybe you could go with Sophie tomorrow?" He suggested and Leith looked at him, interrogative eyes.

"Who the hell is Sophie?" Leith asked. Eliot tended to forget that not always he knew everyone he did know.

"Oh. Sophie Devereaux, she is one of my tem mates." His hands started to rub circles just above the hem of the trousers when they were batted away. "What?"

The European sat up, as much as he could, considering that Eliot was still between his legs and didn't seem to have any thought of moving from there.

"Sophie Devereaux? The world-famous grifter?" He asked, his eyes opened wide.

"Yeah?" He nodded, his hands going back to the slightly smaller body.

Leith lay down again; arching an eyebrow as he also started to explore the already known body, lazily. "Who else is in your crew?" He asked.

"Nathan Ford."

"The insurance guy that almost got us in Lyon?"

"Uh-huh. Long story. Our hacker is Hardison and out thief… Parker." He finished.

"Parker? You mean 'Crazy Parker'?"

"Yeah. And if you thought she was crazy without having properly met her, you are going to think that she is freaking insane when you get to meet her better." He chuckled. "And enough talking about them. I have far more interesting ideas I would like to focus on."

"Oh yeah? Like what luaidh?" He grinned, as he took the shirt off and licked his lips at the view.

"Kissing you. Licking you. Nipping you. Blowing you." Eliot muttered as he kissed him again.

Leith chuckled in the kiss as he kissed back, his hands tangled in the thick mahogany mane. He let Eliot pull his shirt off and he groaned when calloused fingertips rubbed his nipples.

Eliot had never been into foreplay. Hell, he wasn't either. In jobs like theirs, where you could be called at any second, you learned that time was precious, especially if you were with your significant other. The British nipped at the strong neck and sucked vigorously as he started to grind against Eliot.

They could both feel their respective sweatpants grow tighter in the crotch, not being highly uncomfortable since they were quite loose.

They both growled powerfully when their erections rubbed together. Spencer pressed his pelvis down harder, increasing the delicious pressure between their trapped members. Chapman let go one hand and let it travel down to the hitter's arse to squeeze hard, just like he had done before. Eliot broke the kiss to groan, out of pleasure.

Their lips locked on each other's necks, suckling until leaving love bites all over it, lapping it if their teeth had sunk to deep, their hands started roaming over each other's body, needy, but never trying to get the pants off. They increased their speed to the point the sofa was rattling. Not that they particularly cared.

With a quick movement, Leith changed their positions, being him the one in top; he straddled the hitter and started moving again faster, his lips attached to one of the nipples while he could feel a hand teasing his right one mercilessly. And when Eliot pulled him up and bit the juncture of his neck and shoulder, before he was conscious of it, all he saw was white, his skin burning and his pants getting damp. His hands were gripping the wide shoulders, probably leaving ten bruises in them.

Eliot was looking at him, enchanted. Leith was handsome yes, even pretty, but when he was coming, he was freaking gorgeous. Eyes half-lidded, plush pink lips, sweaty… Yeah, just gorgeous. He stirred a bit, still rock-hard and Leith let out a soft moan.

Chapman let himself fall on Eliot, trying to even his breathing when he talked. "Give me a minute and I will take care of that, luaidh." He said as he left some kisses along his jaw line.

"Leith…" He moaned, shifting, trying to rub his still covered cock against him, or anything, for the matter.

It took the British another minute to regain his composure before he smirked and yanked the pants and underwear down, licking his lips lustfully when he saw the hard-rock cock in front of him, leaking, looking delicious. He put his hands on the other man's hips to prevent him to thrust up and choke him (he knew that the hitter never meant to hurt him, but his thrusts were powerful and did hurt his throat a little) and started to lick the hard shaft, smiling to himself when he heard the Southerner whimper.

Eliot was no submissive at first hand. If you wanted him like this, all needy and wanton he had to trust you. But to trust you with his whole being, not just a bit, he needed to know that you would not take more than he was giving. And Leith was just fine with that because he was the same way. That's why they complimented the other so well, because they knew what the other needed and how he wanted it.

And right now, Eliot wanted to be brought to the edge, so he kept licking and kissing, driving the hitter mad until he was writhing, whimpering and pleading. And he always pleaded so sweetly.

"Leith… Leith please… I ne-need…" A moan impeded him to finish the sentence and, the Scottish, taking pity of him, started to swallow around the head, lowering his head slowly until he had all of the hitter inside his mouth.

He smirked, he was glad he had lost his gag reflex long time ago.

He started bobbing his head, grazing the shaft with his teeth in his way up: if he recalled correctly, Eliot loved when he did that. And by the soft moans he was hearing, he still did. He felt a hand tugging at his short hair and he sucked even more. It was long until he heard a long growl and harder tug.

Eliot never verbalise his orgasm, just growls and tugs, maybe some scratching on his arms, gripping the sheets… Only in some really rare occasions he did, and probably Chapman could count them with a single hand

He cleaned him with soft kicks before he kissed him softly on the lips. Spencer groaned when he tasted himself in his lover's mouth.

Eliot was breathing hard and fast while Chapman put his pants back on place and siled softly I him.

"Can I get another ones, please?" He asked, nuzzling his neck.

"Sure sweetheart." He pecked his lips and lay there for some more minutes, regaining control of his heartbeat and breathing, enjoying the afterglow and the soft kisses that were being pressed on his neck. When he was fine again he stood up and extended a hand to him. "We should take a shower."

Leith took his hand and followed him to the bathroom; they peeled off their clothes and turned the shower on, waiting for the water to be warm enough and once it was at the right temperature they stepped inside.

They stood there for about an hour, trading kisses and hands roaming over the other's skin, with no aim of push it further.

It wasn't long until they were on the sofa, only this time Eliot was sitting on the floor while Chapman dried his hair with a towel and then brushed the messy curls lovingly.

"Luaidh?"

"Hm?" Eliot loved when his hair was being stroked or combed. It was something he only let the people really close to him, someone he really cared about. Like his momma. Like Leith.

"I knew you would come for me." He said, not letting the hitter turn around to face him.

"W-what? How?" How could he know that he was going to go for him if he himself didn't even know?

"Well, Moreau did not call the ambulance because he thought I was dead, none of your teammates would have either and of course, they would have not given the name 'James Chapman'." He said.

Spencer chuckled: of course. He did call the ambulance and he told them that the man that was alive was called 'James Chapman'. For any other person, it would have just been a move to stall the police but for them, it was something else; they were in London, running a con to get a piece of art for Moreau and they were using aliases: He was Mark Spencer and Leith… James Chapman. Now, this wouldn't be a special thing, they had been using aliases for almost all of their lives, but it had been that time, under those aliases, that they had their first kiss.

It was there, being Mark and James, where everything began for them.

Funny thing is that he didn't even really realised what giving that name to the hospital emergency guys implied.

Eliot chuckled and then turned around, smiled at him, stood up and kissed him again. "I'm so happy you are here again. With me." He whispered.

"So am I, luaidh, so I am." The Scottish replied and nuzzled his chest.


End file.
